loneliness at its finest
by quillquate
Summary: Your determination has long faded out. The only thing keeping you here, you think, is probably that human coming down every single day, mercy and all, to talk to you. They...really are an idiot.


You're all alone. The only sounds you can hear are the buttercups swaying in the breeze (you can still remember how they taste; disgustingly bitter and acidic). That's it. No frightened whispers of Whimsuns, or the croaks of Froggits, or even the skitter-skattering of that one mouse who probably still hopes to get the cheese. Nothing.

Everyone had gone up without a look back. And you don't blame them, really. After all, wasn't this their dream? To see the stars, not those fake glittering rocks embedded in caves, but actual stars. To feel the warmth of the sun and let their world be lit up with its rays. Monsters had always been trapped in with artificial lights; there's no wonder why they wouldn't even want to stay a moment longer.

Your determination has long faded out. The only thing keeping you here, you think, is probably that human coming down every single day, mercy and all, to talk to you. They...really are an idiot. Just like Asriel, no, _Flowey_ said.

It's not like they talk a lot. In fact, they once confided that talking too much hurts their throat. But their overall presence is so annoying. If you were corporeal, you would stab them with your knife; except, you don't even have that, do you? The human took it, along with your golden locket. Not that you care. It's just a stupid memento with too many memories attached to it. (Memories of a better time. You wish you can go back to those days.)

"I wish I could die," you say out loud, flopping down on the yellow bed of flowers. You roll over onto your stomach to stare moodily at a buttercup. "Not like I can even do _that_ right," you mutter darkly.

"What did that flower ever do to you?" a small voice asks. You look up to see—oh great, it's the human. Here to ruin your day, probably.

"None of your business," you snap back. "Why don't you go away and frolick somewhere that isn't here? Because that would be wonderful." The human looks at you reprovingly. They lift up a finger and shake it at you like a mother scolding her child. The gesture is achingly familiar. You remember, once upon a time when your world was full of butterscotch pie and yellow-green sweaters, that Toriel had done the same exact thing when you made a mistake, accidentally or on purpose. Spending so much time around that goat had probably made her habits rub off on the human. For some reason, that thought makes your non-existent heart twinge.

After several minutes of silence, you say tiredly, "Frisk, why can't you just leave me alone? It's been five years since you broke the Barrier." _And you come back every week,_ you add mentally. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

They look up from where they were collecting buttercups to make a flower crown. As they thread stems together, they shrug their shoulders. Somehow, that only makes you angrier. You clench a fist and exhale noisily. Frisk sets down their mini-project gently as they pad over to you. They pat you lightly on the shoulder, even though their hand goes right through.

"Don't do that, it feels weird," you grumble. You float away from them and settle down three feet away. You glare, daring them to even try to come closer. Unsurprisingly, they follow you to your little corner. "You're like a cockroach," you say distastefully. "Almost impossible to kill. What do you even _do_ with all that determination?"

"Protect my friends, search for a happy ending," comes the soft reply. You snort because that's so Frisk and you didn't really expect any different. Frisk peers at your see-through face as they say, "I already achieved one of my goals, though. So…"

"Yeah, yeah, happiness, friendship, love, and all that jazz."

"Don't you want those things?"

"I'm a demon, Frisk. I'm not a monster or a human. I can't be saved."

Frisk cocks their head and folds their hands neatly in their lap as they sit next to you. Their eyes squint even more than usual. _Are you sure?_ they seem to ask. _Are you truly sure about that?_

"Ugh, are we really having this conversation? Because honestly, I'm not going to be redeemed nor do I particularly want to. Besides, what would I even do after? Go back to Mo— _Toriel_ and Asgore? After all I did? Ha! What a joke."

"They miss you," Frisk says simply. "And they love you."

"..."

"Really," they insist.

You won't deny that a little part in you says to accept their offer, that maybe you can be part of a family again. That you can return to those days where you thought you had forever. And maybe, just maybe, you can be happy.

But you don't deserve it.

You never will.

"N-no." Your voice cracks involuntarily and you hate yourself for it. You can't show weakness in front of an enemy (but Frisk isn't your enemy, that same part in you whispers, they're your friend), you'll never live it down. You squash the feeling of longing deep, deep, down and imagine it shattering into pieces. You clear your throat. "Besides, I don't even have a body. There's no use floating around up there if nobody can even see me. Except you."

Frisk looks stumped at this point and you feel a bit of pride. What will you do, now that your picture-perfect plan isn't going how it's supposed to be, you think childishly. Stuffing your hands in your pockets, you call from behind you, "I'm off, since you're obviously not going to get out of my face."

"You can share with me," Frisk says.

You stop and turn around to stare incredulously. "What."

"You've done it before."

"Remember when I took control of your body and killed everyone?" you demand. Judging by their flinch, they do. But even still, they thrust a hand forwards and looks at you questioningly. "Are you insane?"

"No, just determined," Frisk says. You want to wipe it off their face with sandpaper.

"You're going to regret this," you warn like you're actually going to agree but Frisk should know better. If you went up, that meant dealing with humans, a selfish race with nothing more to show. That meant dealing with a whole nother species that weren't as, as _accepting_ as monsters (which is ironic because you've been raised with the knowledge that monsters were horrible creatures that would eat your soul).

(But maybe humans changed. Maybe the sole reason you went climbing up that one fateful night is finally gone for good. Maybe it won't be so bad.)

Frisk just smiles and stretches their arm even more.

For some reason, you take it.


End file.
